The Crimson Shield
by Syan
Summary: The Crimson Shield is a romance/angst fic with Auron as the main character.
1. pro

Prologue A figure stood on top of a high cliff overlooking the sea. It was at the far edge of Spira in a small settlement called Besaid. He had his arms folded in front of him, the wind blowing through his long dark ponytail. He was clad in a black leather vest that had a striking resemblance to the shell of a tortoise, and dark pants with a thin white striping along the front and sides, typical of the Warrior Monks to which he belonged. He wore high military boots. The top of each boot displayed an intricately designed golden medallion. As well, a metal shield covered each instep and was held in place by leather strapping around the heel and arch. Two rings dangled from a gold chain encircling his neck. Footsteps approached from behind, and, even as he turned his head slightly to look, he already recognized the familiar cadence of her walk. "Yuna, you wanted to talk to me?" "Sayje, I've something here for you." She handed him the crimson coat that was bundled in her arms. He smiled, taking it carefully from her and letting it fall open to it's full length. He had finally come of age and was proud to put it on. She buckled a series of wide belts around his waist to hold it closed. She stood back, smiling, her hands resting on her hips. He could see she was admiring the finished look. "I had it made in the exact style of your father's. Every detail is there. You look almost identical to him." He flinched, "Almost." He couldn't hide the disappointment. Everyone used that word or variations of the same thing. He was . almost his son. "Sayje, I understand how you must be feeling. We've all had to contend with losing our parents at an early age, but you aren't responsible for what happened. No one is." She paused a moment. He was shifting on his feet. "You miss them, don't you?" "I just want to know something about them." His hands clenched together. He felt a dull ache at the bottom of his heart, " It's not fair, Yuna. I never even had the chance." "I think, since you are now sixteen, it is time you went on a journey, to the library in Bevelle. She dropped her head slightly. "Lulu and I have discussed it and we're in agreement. They've built a great library there since the death of Sin. All the spheres have been collected, stories are being recounted, and the history of Spira is being recorded. Perhaps they've started the story of your mother and father." Sayje thought for a moment, then nodded his head. Yes, perhaps this was a way to answer his questions. He had heard about the library the last time he went to Bevelle to study, and somehow the idea of going there now lifted his spirits. He turned and looked into Yuna's eyes, and she smiled calmly at him. Then, giving her a weak smile, he walked past her. He stopped and, without facing her, decided to tell her now. before he lost the nerve. what she meant to him. "Aunt Yuna?" He began to smile. "I don't know why I call you that, after all you are not really my aunt," His thoughts drifted. "You know that I've never called Lulu, 'Mother', even though she raised me and trained me in my skills, Anyway, you've always made me feel, well, like family. Thank you, for everything." He winced; it was an awkward attempt, but an effort none the less. He found it difficult expressing himself, but she always seemed to understand his meaning. He walked away, leaving her in silence. He had the same long, powerful stride as his father, but his moves were faster and more fluid, unmistakably like his mother. He sensed she was watching him, and he heard her release a long sigh. Sayje knew they would miss him, even if he was only gone a little while. He made the trip to Bevelle, taking the time to visit all the places he knew his father went before him, but it turned out to be a rather tranquil journey. Having travelled this route many times in the past to study with the Warrior Monks, he now travelled with only Dane, his trusted guardian, beside him. Dane had always been there, for as long as he could remember. He knew that his mother had been protected by him when his father died and he just seemed to stay on. There were few fiends to bother them on the way, now that Sin was gone. His father was one of the ones responsible for that and Sayje proudly carried the huge sword that had belonged to him. It had been left in his mother's care when his father passed to the Farplane. Sayje claimed it as soon as he was strong enough to lift it. He now was a skilled warrior, having trained for the last six years as a Warrior Monk, in combination with his study with Lulu. Following in his father's footsteps, he developed in stamina and strength but, unlike his father, he also had powerful magic skills, some of which he still hadn't the time to develop. He had been offered a very unique opportunity to continue his training in Guadosalam and he was seriously considering going To his knowledge the offer had never been made to any non- Guado before and he often wondered why he was chosen. When he reached the vast city, he went straight to the library. Entering the great hall, he could see countless people working at different tables, all writing and viewing spheres. He walked over to an old man at a large desk. The old man looked up and a momentary spark of recognition crossed his face. He looked away, caught the memory and turned back, this time with an expression of awe. Sayje shifted uncomfortably. People often did a double take when they first saw him and, now, with the new red coat, he expected it even more. "Excuse me, I'm interested in the summoner Yuna's journey, specifically one of her Guardians. The old man waited patiently for him to continue. "Sir Auron is the one I speak of. Do you have anything on him yet?" The man still said nothing, but pointed to someone else working diligently in the corner. Sayje thanked him, walked over and began again. "Excuse me, Sir, but are you recording the story of Sir Auron?" A mature man looked up. Fair haired, he was now mostly grey. He had been a very handsome man in his youth and he still maintained a certain air about him. A broad smile ran across his face. Sayje started again, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I am." "Sayje," the man finished the sentence for him. Pointing to a chair opposite him. he continued "Sit down over here, Son, I've been expecting you. Sayje's eyes widened. "How did you know?" This man knew him but he couldn't remember ever meeting him before. "I think everyone in Spira can guess just from the look of you who you are. You are quite an enigma, my boy. The child of an unsent, you are my sister's son." Sayje was momentarily stunned, but the man just smiled back. "I am Raphel, your uncle." He held out his hand and Sayje shook it. " Come on, sit down," Sayje sat down uncomfortably waiting for Raphel to continue. "I'm sorry I haven't been to see you, but I have watched your progress carefully. He glanced at the sea of notes and spheres on his desk. "I have been occupied with this for a long time. Your mother had her life stolen away from her, you know, and I'm here to make sure it becomes known," Hs face clouded; obviously her memory still caused him a lot of pain. "Now listen, you shall be the first to hear. It is a story of strength, of undying hope and unfathomable love. People have come from all over Spira to tell what they know, and from their stories and the spheres I've put together almost the whole account. Look at this, Sayje," and he handed him a broken sphere. It displayed the image of two people, hand in hand. He recognized them both from what everyone had described to him. They seemed so happy together. His father wore the scars of past battles, but still he was a powerful and handsome figure of a man, and his mother. No one really could do her justice. Looking at her image here in the sphere, her face smiling up at his father, he thought she was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The sphere was crushed and the image frozen. "What was this?" "Let's start from the beginning, and eventually I'll show you the whole sequence. Raphel settled in and began. "As you probably already know, for one thousand years, Spira suffered, first by war and then by the birth of Sin. Every ten years Sin was reborn to wreak havoc on the population. With numbers dwindling, Spira was reduced to numerous small towns and villages, and only a few cities were strong enough to remain standing. Their survival was due mostly to the protection of the Warrior Monks. The lords in power set up special temples and houses for worship, and also for the safekeeping of their precious children. One such institution was the Houses of the Covenant, of which only two remained. They sent their daughters there for protection, and to learn the healing arts. These houses were exclusive to the richest and most powerful and only the most beautiful and talented girls were chosen to go there. They were trained in the arts and politics, and would eventually become consorts to the lords, thus ensuring the continuance of good strong bloodlines. The great High Mistress Lita ruled the houses with an iron hand. Her own chapter resided in Bevelle, the greatest city in Spira. Your parents story began in a time just after the calm. Sin was destroyed by the High Summoner Braska and his two guardians, Sir Jecht and Sir Auron. With the loss of both Braska and Jecht , in the battle with Sin, Sir Auron, the last remaining guardian seemed to disappear from Spira. Ten years passed, and, once again, Sin was reborn. Your mother, Syan, was a daughter of the House in Bevelle. This was the only home she ever knew. Unlike the other girls, she didn't go there by choice. Her family signed her over to the Great High Mistress at the age of two. She was virtually owned by the house and the only person who could give her freedom was Mistress Lita herself, but Syan was an exceptional beauty and the High Mistress had special plans for her. Syan tended to be very headstrong and rebellious so she didn't mix well with the other, more docile girls. She had few friends that she could trust, but the one she trusted most was Mistress Primula from the house in Luca, who visited every once in a while. Although it was forbidden, it was Primula who revealed the story of Syan's parents to her. Sayje sat back to listen, the scene unfolding in his mind. "Prim, did you ever know my mother?". Syan sat with her hands quietly folded in her lap, looking relaxed and unruffled, but her heart pounded uncontrollably, betraying her true feelings. "Everyone knew of your mother," Primula said in her usual calm, comforting voice. "I think Kara was one of Mistress Lita's most prized girls. Mistress Lita had been planning a very important union for her as soon as she came of age." There was a slight bitter edge to Mistress Primula's voice; only Syan knew her well enough to notice it. "So, what happened?" Syan's fingers began twisting together as she listened. "A young man came to the house to serve a year of duty. His name was Taro. He was from a small village off the coast of Spira. The son of the leader of that village, he was not exactly rich and powerful, but, I must admit, he was a beautiful young man, tall and fair. As fate would have it, he and Kara met and, well, it was love at first sight." Primula gave a long sigh and shook her head. "They both knew that Mistress Lita would never approve a marriage and so Taro refused to even ask for her hand. They were very careful and kept their love a secret from everyone." Syan could see Primula tilt her head to the side. She knew that gesture and realized Primula was watching for some glimmer of resolve in her. Reading thoughts was one of Primula's talents as a Mistress. Syan felt a slight intrusion as Primula was trying to probe her mind, but She was clever enough and knew how to block her by closing her out. Primula released her hold and continued, "His term was soon coming to a close, so Kara devised a plan to force the issue. The dances are steeped in ritual and tradition, as you well know. You also know that to perform the Warrior sword dance in the presence of a Mistress, with the sword of the man you chose, is a request for him to consider marriage. If she performs the capture at the end of the dance, it forces an immediate reply." "Did she do it; did my mother actually do the capture?" Syan could not contain the excitement in her voice. It was rare anyone would even try, and those who did usually wore nasty scars to show for it. "Be patient, girl!" Primula smiled, "and let me tell you. Through trickery, Kara arranged that Mistress Lita herself would witness the event. First, I must tell you, that your mother was one of the finest dancers I've ever seen, much like yourself, and, like you, she was almost technically perfect. I watched her practice on a few occasions. Mind you, I was still a young girl at the time and that's probably why she allowed me to be present, but I have seen her do the capture perfectly." Syan gasped. The idea was a shock to her. "It wasn't until it was too late that Mistress Lita realized what was going on. Even Taro was caught unaware until the dance was underway. It was the most beautiful performance I think I'll ever see in my lifetime," Primula said with a sigh. "Right to the end, and when she kicked the scabbard into her waiting hand a gasp went up all round." Primula's face tightened as she remembered. "I knew as soon as Kara threw the sword that something was wrong. Her face anticipated pain, even before the sword bit into her flesh." Primula lowered her eyes, trying to control the emotion within them. "I will never know how she held onto the scabbard but she completed the movement. The sword had severed her thumb completely, and cut her arm deeply. She was now disfigured for life. Syan's hand went to her mouth to silence a gasp. "Taro was horrified, but he understood immediately, and he asked for Kara as his wife. Mistress Lita was livid with anger, but under the circumstances Kara would be unsuitable for her plans now. Disfigurements are unacceptable. Lita was forced to consent. She warned them both that the price for their union would be extremely high. The ceremony took place quietly, but, Syan, you have never seen such a beautiful, happy couple in your life. I knew the offspring they would produce would be breathtaking," and she reached over and patted Syan's face. "I was right." Syan smiled weakly, but her eyes revealed the deep hurt and Primula could see it. "Your parents loved you, Sy. They had no idea what treachery Mistress Lita was capable of." Primula tried to comfort her. "It was considered an honour for the daughter of a leader to go to the House of the Covenant, eventually, anyway. When your parents signed the papers they thought that it only insured a good marriage for you. They were stunned when the Mistress took you away at the age of two. Your mother tried to get you back, but her efforts were futile. You were lost to her. She was heartbroken; the price of her love was high, indeed." Primula's eyes flashed with anger, "No one should have the power to take a child like that. Some laws definitely need looking into." Syan was watching her closely, surprised at the outburst. Primula relaxed and smiled. "Sorry, Sy. Nothing they did had any effect- the Mistress is far too powerful- so they resigned themselves to the hope you would be joined in a good match some day. They tried for other children, but to no avail. Your older brother Raphel is all they had left. If Sin hadn't taken their lives early.Primula turned her eyes away, biting her lip. Syan could see something was eating at her and she suspected it had to do with the death of her parents. Even for her it just didn't add up. Why would Sin attack a whole village and then travel such a long distance just to destroy two individuals? It just didn't make sense. Sin always attacked with purpose. Syan nodded her head, but the hurt refused to go away. She didn't want to hear anymore. "Its time for me to go, Prim, thanks for telling me. Perhaps one day.," she started to say, but then she just shrugged. "Planning to run away again anytime soon?" Primula said with a half smile. Every time the choosing rolls around you find a way to disappear. What I don't understand is why Lita allows your disobedience." She paused studying Syan's face. "You refuse all the matches that come your way. Ever since you were fifteen you have been selected by so many, but after that day in the garden, she lets you refuse, overlooks when you run away, and never asks what you have been doing. It's so unlike her." Syan shifted nervously. "Her punishment is usually very harsh." Primula glanced at Syan, and put her hand to her mouth and whispered, "Never as harsh as that one day, mind you." Syan shuddered. "Enough, Prim. Don't talk about it again. I don't know why she lets me run away. I often feel even when I'm in hiding that I'm being watched the whole time, but I seem to manage to stay away longer and longer. Maybe I'm just getting better at it. I don't know." She shook her head. "Frankly, I'm afraid to know." "Well, if you do get it in your head to go, here is something for you." Primula walked over to her closet and removed a large nondescript grey- green cloak. "Prim!" Syan exclaimed, that is the ugliest cloak I've ever seen!" She grabbed it up in her arms. "It's absolutely perfect!" Primula laughed aloud. "It's meant to keep you hidden. Your problem is your beauty gives you away too much. Here." She handed Syan a bundle wrapped in silk cloth. "It's a sword. The only thing I kept from my family. I don't need such things anymore. Perhaps you might learn how to use it." Syan threw her arms around Primula's neck and hugged her. "I will gain my freedom somehow. I can't stand this prison for much longer." "Just take care, Sy. Don't get yourself killed out there." As soon as night fell, Syan gathered up her things, threw on the cloak and escaped out the window. It all seemed so easy. The cloak made her virtually invisible. This was probably the first time that she actually escaped without feeling as if eyes were on her. She decided not to travel overland and so, caught a ride on an Al Bhed ship heading home. They seemed to understand her need for privacy and promised to drop her off on a small island off the southern coast of Spira. There was a village there that might offer some respite from the constant searching by the soldiers sent to find her. Raphel interrupted the story with his own thoughts. "If Syan had only known it was the island of her birth things might have been so different, but that part of her life was kept secret from her. I had no reason to suspect that she had run away. I received word that she was joined in a very good marriage. It never occurred to me that our mysterious visitor was, in fact, my sister." He wiped the sweat from his brow. Sayje was convinced that he was haunted by guilt and he was still trying to justify his lack of action on Syan's behalf. Raphel started back into the story. She hid herself on the far side of the Island, a good place to find shelter and food. There was a deep depression in the rocks and she set it up as a temporary home. She could cover it at night to keep out the chill and, once it was covered with brush it was virtually invisible. We often had visitors from the mainland, and from the Al bhed. Our island sits right in the middle between the two. Syan had managed to stay completely out of sight, although rumors of a thief circulated occasionally. Things were taken, but always money was left behind." Raphel hesitated momentarily and lifted up a large manuscript. " First I should tell you something that may or may not surprise you." Sayje paid careful attention. "Sir Jecht was not from this world. He came from a Zanarkand of ages past. Your father was bound by a promise, and he travelled back in time to that Zanarkand to retrieve Jecht's son, Tidus. He watched over Tidus for ten years, until Sin arrived at the appointed hour and destroyed the city. Through the power of Sin, Sir Auron and Tidus were swept forward through time to land on the shores of Spira as you know it now, and that was when your mothers life changed forever." "This is where the real story begins; I have written most of it down on these pages." He handed the heavy book to Sayje. "Go ahead and read it. When you are finished you can view all the spheres. Sayje made himself comfortable. This is what he had waited for all his life. He brushed his hand smoothly over the front page of the manuscript, then, flipping the page open, he began to read. 


	2. 1

Chapter 1 A young woman walked across the sandy beach of a small island off the coast of Spira, a sword strapped to her back. She traveled barefoot and carried a fishing pole. A slender, beautiful woman, she was muscular with perfect proportions to her height. Her face had fine delicate features, and her complexion was a flawless peaches and cream colour. Her lips were full and sensuous and she had a devastating smile on the few occasions that she was inclined to reveal it. But it was her eyes that impressed people the most, distinct almond shape, framed in ebony black lashes, the colour unusual and stunning. People often found themselves staring at her in rapt fascination. Her thick wavy hair was a rich warm mahogany colour and it fell in rivers down the whole of her back. It was often said a hint of jasmine followed her.  
  
She stopped walking to watch two local youths leaning over something lying on the beach. They had been collecting driftwood in a tarp when they came upon something washed up out of the depths. She couldn't quite make out what it was except for a flash of crimson. Fearing that, as young boys are sometimes wont to do, the youths had attacked some poor helpless creature, she hurried down the beach toward them.  
  
It became quickly clear that what she was seeing was the body of a man - unfortunately not a rare sight at these times in Spira - the red his full length coat. The boys were at a loss; they didn't know what to do. Syan ran up, dropped to her knees, and turned the man over. Her heart unexpectedly skipped a beat. His face was pale, deeply lined, and covered in a new, dark growth of beard. No longer young, he was still a ruggedly handsome man with very strong features. On the right side of his face he had a scar running from his hairline right through his eye, and down his cheek. He had obviously seen his share of battle. Some of his long black hair was plastered over his face and his ponytail draped over his throat. She moved it aside, and pressed her fingers into the contours of his neck. There was a pulse . He had a nasty bump on his head; it was angry and swollen. She guessed a concussion was the probable cause of his unconsciousness. She held her hand gently against his skin. On top of everything else, he was running a fairly high fever. She looked up at the boys and flashed them a radiant smile, which they shyly returned.  
  
"It's ok, boys, I'll take care of it from here." They sighed with relief and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait just a moment. Where do you think you're going with that?" She gestured toward one of the boys, who was dragging a huge six-foot sword.  
  
"It's mine! his honey brown eyes flashed with defiance "I found it down the beach." He shook his head and the mass of blonde curls bounced away from his face and then fell back into place again.  
  
"I think you'll find it belongs to him," she pointed to the man in red. He moaned, beginning to regain consciousness, and his undamaged eye fluttered as he tried to open it. The boy shifted uneasily on his feet.  
  
"How do I know for sure it's his?" He jerked his head in the direction of the man. "Besides, he doesn't look like he will survive, anyway."  
  
Syan could not debate it any longer. She had hoped to remain unnoticed, for the most part, but the man needed to be taken out of the sun and looked after properly.  
  
"I'll tell you what," she said, unstrapping the sword from her own back. "I'll give you this one in exchange."  
  
"Why should I?" the boy held tighter to the sword, but he looked interested all the same.  
  
"Well," Syan's shoulders fell and her breath escaped in a sigh, "that sword is bigger than you are, and you probably can't even wield it. This one is more your size." She became aware that the man was looking up at her, but then he drifted back into unconsciousness again. "And," she continued, "in case you didn't notice, this man is a warrior. If that sword is his, and he recovers, he will come looking for it, I can assure you."  
  
The boy hesitated for a moment longer, watching the man struggle through his delirium. Then he dropped the big sword and took the one Syan held out "Leave the tarp, and it will be a fair exchange." Both boys grinned at each other and happily dropped the rope to the tarp, hurrying off with their new treasure. The man, barely conscious again, struggled to speak, but eventually he gave it up.  
  
Syan carefully rolled him and the sword onto the tarp. It amazed her just how heavy one semiconscious man could be. She collected up everything that she thought might belong to him, picked up the rope to the tarp and dragged it slowly back along the sand. She didn't like the idea that she was leaving such a noticeable trail to her shelter, but it couldn't be helped just now. The trip over grassland proved a lot rougher, and she found herself straining with all her muscles. "Wait," she heard a faint whisper. He was awake. "Can you walk?" She was amazed at the speed at which he was regaining his strength, unsure before whether he would even live. He was now struggling to get up. "Its not much further." He nodded and slowly rose to his feet, but immediately dropped back down. Syan grasped him around the waist and pulled his arm over her shoulder. The weight of him buckled her knees, but, slowly, they covered the remaining ground to the shelter. Laying him down on her make shift bed, she covered him with a blanket. He was soaking wet.  
  
"I'll be right back," she said. "You are safe here, trust me." He was out again.  
  
She ran back to the beach and did her best to cover her tracks. Within about ten minutes she had some small fish caught and cleaned to make some broth, then she was back quickly setting the fire and filling the pot. He was looking dehydrated, and a bit undernourished. Now she turned all her attention to him.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, but you must take all this stuff off," and she began to remove his clothing. "You are soaked to the skin. Besides, this leather will be completely ruined if it's not treated right away."  
  
While she undressed him she checked him carefully for further injuries and found none. She then covered him again with the blanket and felt his head. The fever was getting worse. She placed her hands on the bump on his head and began to reach inside herself to call on the healing power she possessed. The warmth flowed from her fingers to the wound and she felt the familiar draining of energy from her own body. As the angry colour of his wounded skin began to fade, he let out an audible sigh of relief. She pulled herself away from him; the healing was always so tiring. Good, he was sleeping now. If only she had a cure potion, it would help. Well, she would just have to do it the old fashioned way.  
  
Later he awoke, just long enough for her to get some broth into him, but quickly was asleep again. She stayed up all night checking his progress, sponging the fever down, and giving him liquids. By morning he finally opened his eye and looked at her. She smiled down at him.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Tired," was all he could answer. He tried to move, but he was too weak.  
  
"You and me both," she felt uncommonly weary. "Just sleep now. The fever is broken and you're going to survive."  
  
Again, she placed her hands on him, calling the power from within her. He let out another sigh of relief. She noticed him watching her as she began to give in to the strain. She was tired and this was obviously draining her more.  
  
Pushing her hand away weakly, he spoke in a whisper  
  
"Enough," She moved the hair off his face and scrutinized him carefully.  
  
"You will feel better tomorrow, trust me. Just sleep now."  
  
With those words, he relaxed back into sleep. The last thing he remembered before drifting off were those incredible eyes looking down at him. He had never seen eyes like them before. They were almost cat-like but edged in sweeping dark lashes, and they were the most amazing color. The pupils were encircled by the deepest blue color, blending into warm honey brown and then edged in sea green It was hard to say exactly what color they actually were; they would seem to change with whatever was around her face. Soon he was asleep again, remembering anew letting go of Tidus and feeling the awful pull of Sin taking him back to Spira. He heard Jecht's voice in his head.  
  
"Don't forget."  
  
He dreamed he was walking along a path lined with bushes of Jasmine. He inhaled their fragrance deeply, running his fingers over the delicate blossoms. Birds were singing everywhere and their song was getting louder and louder, disturbing his tranquility. Real sound began to drift into his head; sleep was lifting and he awoke. A gentle hint of jasmine still remained in his nostrils. Opening his eye, he saw rivers of mahogany spilling over the tarp in front of him. She was sleeping right next to him, both of them sharing the same blanket. He quickly lifted his head. Pain shot through his temple and he had to lie back down again. Feeling him move, she turned to face him, smiling.  
  
"Good morning. You slept through an entire day. You look a lot better to- day."  
  
She climbed out from under the cover and began to go through her morning ritual. She pulled the brush curtain from the doorway to let the light in. He had to admit this young woman was probably one of the most beautiful women he had seen, with her thick wavy hair, falling right down to the small of her back, the gentle curve of her face, the sensuous lift of her mouth. and those eyes. He could not stop looking at her eyes. Syan glanced up at him . He looked away, embarrassed,  
  
"Are you always in the habit of sleeping next to men you don't know?" his voice was almost accusing . Syan's mouth dropped open in obvious surprise at his verbal attack.  
  
She struck back. "Well, Your Majesty, if you had informed me you were coming I would have prepared the master suite for you. It was cold last night, and, besides, I didn't feel any need to worry about you." He tried to grasp her meaning, confused.  
  
"After all you talk in your sleep, calling out the names of the people in your life. Since they were all men, I just assumed."  
  
"Just assumed what!?" his eyebrow arched upwards. He wanted immediate clarification.  
  
Hastily Syan added, "It's alright. I'm perfectly fine with it."  
  
"Wait just a minute!" his face tinted red to match his coat. He was stunned as he caught her meaning  
  
"Well you are from a temple, I can see from your clothes. A Warrior Monk, I assume. I've heard it happens all the time among the monks. There's no point in getting upset."  
  
"I'm not upset!" Anger edged his voice. Syan just shrugged and turned back to what she was doing.  
  
"Whatever, it's nothing to me."  
  
In all his years he had never had to deal with this kind of accusation and, frankly, he was totally unsure how to react.  
  
"You are mistaken!" he spit the words out, "but, if you need proof, then just say so."  
  
Syan was not listening to him; she was straining to hear something off in the distance. He was not about to let her dismiss him in this way and he began to struggle into a sitting position. He needed to gain back control and he was curious to see how she would react to his response. Sitting up, folding his arms across his chest, he waited. She seemed totally distracted and then suddenly became distraught, her eyes darting around the shelter. He noticed she was particularly troubled by the open doorway. For a second he thought she might be afraid of him, but instead she quickly grabbed her cloak, pushed him back and flung herself right on top of him, pinning him down, making sure the cloak covered every part of him. He lay momentarily motionless, stunned. This was definitely not the reaction he had anticipated!  
  
His voice cracked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
Syan pushed his head down to the ground. The air hissed through her teeth.  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
She pulled her hood over their heads. He felt as if she were trying to flatten him into oblivion. Then he heard footsteps. He felt her trembling all over, her muscles coiled tightly, ready for flight, and her heart pounding so hard he could feel it thudding against his own chest. He didn't speak. Her face was resting next to his and her breathing was heavy in his ear. He could tell she was terrified. As soon as he heard the voices, he recognized the speech. They were Guado. What were they doing so far away from their home, and what did they have to do with her? With the aid of the cloak he and Syan blended into the background, invisible to the passing guards. Before long the footsteps receded, yet Syan was still frozen, as if her muscles could not move. He slipped his arm reassuringly around her.  
  
"Ok, they're gone now. I think you're safe." Syan lifted her head, looking directly into his face. She tried to smile, but a bead of sweat rolling down her brow just made her look more anxious.  
  
"So, why are you hiding from Guado soldiers?" he tried to distract her thoughts from her fear. "Are you a thief, or something?"  
  
"You don't even know me, and you just assume I'm a thief!?" It had obviously had the desired affect.  
  
"It's no worse than the assumption you made of me." He couldn't resist throwing back a terse response.  
  
She glanced behind her, realizing he had his arm looped over her back. They both seemed to sense at the same moment what a compromising position they were presently in. For some reason her closeness made him uneasy; the smell of her, and the incredible silkiness of her skin. Her hair was falling loosely around his face, her hands resting on his neck and shoulders, the contour of their bodies molded together. Then at almost the same instant a shocked expression crossed both their faces. Syan's eyes flew open and she let out a small gasp.  
  
"Get off!" He shoved her aggressively away sending her sprawling on her back in the dirt. He turned his back to her, mortified. Forgetting himself, he had let his guard down, and actually responded to the girl. He cursed under his breath, angry and annoyed, and yet he couldn't deny that he was also surprised he actually could respond to her. She sat up, pulling leaves out of her hair,  
  
"Not exactly a gentleman, are you," she slapped the soil off her hands.  
  
They sat in embarrassed silence for a moment. He turned briefly to look at her, ready to apologize, but he couldn't get the words out. She was blushing, and her lips began to tremble. All of a sudden, totally unexpectedly, Syan let out a guffaw. Then she began to laugh uncontrollably.  
  
"Well, there goes that theory," she shrugged her shoulders. She threw back her head and laughed again. He just let out an exasperated sigh. This woman threw him off balance, and he was not used to being flustered. She gave him a grin, and the tension between then seemed to evaporate into thin air.  
  
Lying back down again he was overcome with exhaustion. It would take a little while longer for him to regain his strength. He knew he had no choice, he had to put his trust in her and let her care for him. He hated to be dependant on anyone, and especially this woman, this unsettling woman,. He shook the thoughts from his head, and focused on something else.  
  
She threw the blanket over him. "So, what is your name, anyway?" she continued over her shoulder as she set about preparing some food.  
  
"I'm called Auron."  
  
"Auron." she repeated his name "Auron, the Warrior Monk" she embellished, smiling to herself, then, suddenly, her head snapped in his direction, eyes staring.  
  
"Sir Auron, the legendary Guardian?" He just smiled at her awkwardness and shrugged. It would seem even she had heard of him. Her cheeks blushed with embarrassment  
  
"Red coat, six foot sword, of course! How could I have missed it.Why didn't you tell me before?" I'm sure the leader of the village would welcome you into his house. You could have a warm bed, your own bath and decent food to eat."  
  
He shook his head. The thought nearly made him shiver. "Yes, and I would be the curiosity of the village, and everyone would want to know my business, No, this will be fine. I prefer to recuperate here."  
  
He could see she was lost in her own thoughts.  
  
"Braska and Jecht , those were the names you called out in your sleep. Even an idiot could have put two and two together." She dropped her head in her hands, her hair falling softly about her face. Then she lifted her head and swept her hair back behind her ears.  
  
"Who is Tidus?"  
  
"He is Sir Jecht's son. I promised to take care of him and I should be out looking for him now." He sighed, his task returning to his thoughts and weighing heavily on his mind.  
  
"I wasn't even aware that Sir Jecht had a wife," she said, shaking her head, "But as to finding his son, it will have to wait a few days. You're still not strong enough. You know, Sir Auron, there's been no word of you for at least ten years. A lot of people said you were dead. Where have you been?"  
  
He just looked at her, considering. She would never believe him, never understand, it was something he had to carry alone, and his expression remained blank and closed. It was always the best answer to that question. He was thankful she didn't pursue it further and left it alone. He suspected she understood his tactic well enough. He watched the movement of her back as she returned to preparing the food.  
  
"Ok, your turn," he said. "What's your name?"  
"I'm called Syan, and that's all I'll say for now. It would be best if you knew as little about me as possible."  
  
"That's good. It looks like you have your appetite back." She ate her own breakfast and rose to her feet.  
  
"Now I'm going to get some water. It would seem someone needs a bath."  
  
"Who?" He wolfed down the last of his meal, not paying much attention to what she said.  
  
"You," and she flashed him a quick smile.  
  
"Wait just a minute!" but she was disappearing out of sight. He shifted nervously, drawing his red coat tightly around him. He could handle any fighting situation you could throw at him but this was something else again. For a brief second the thought of running crossed his mind, yet he couldn't deny he was curious at the same time.  
  
She returned with fresh water, carrying it in some large, crude buckets that she had made from old driftwood. He had to admit she was resourceful.  
  
"Look, I'm not comfortable with this."  
  
"Well, you're covered with salt from the sea, and stains from your leather vest. If you don't wash it off soon, it will irritate your skin." She shifted impatiently,  
  
"Relax, will you, I'm not planning on being your nurse maid. I think you're strong enough to do this yourself." She dropped the cloth, towel, and bucket of water down at his feet,  
  
"Here, knock yourself out." She turned and left. As he watched her go he heaved a huge sigh of relief, and proceeded to wash to the best of his ability. Syan was busy gathering things together, when he emerged into the sunlight, looking ashen and worn, the deep red of his coat contrasting with the paleness of his skin. She directed him to a place where he could sit and rest his back up against something. He sat, looking a little forlorn, clearly not happy about his present situation.  
  
"Cheer up," she said, " you really had a nasty knock to the head, and on top of that you were ill and exhausted. It'll take time to gain back all your strength." She walked over to him and placed her hands on his forehead, and tried again to use her healing. He closed his eyes and let the warmth travel through him, enjoying her gentle touch. She pulled away, shaking her head. She had let all the energy she could afford drain from her.  
  
"What's wrong with me?" When she looked at him he was watching with confusion.  
  
"My apologies." She turned her gaze abruptly away from him, not wanting him to see her frustration.  
  
"Your injuries are almost gone. It should be a simple case of healing you, but it's like I'm playing hide and seek when I try to cure you. I cannot reach the centre of your pain. Trying to explain just frustrated her further. She knew she had strong enough healing magic, but right now it seemed to have abandoned her.  
  
"I have to admit it must be my inexperience."  
  
He gazed blankly at her for a second.  
  
"No need to apologize." He looked away from her, and let the air escape resignedly from his lungs "I definitely feel stronger each time you try."  
  
She wondered by his reaction if he had experienced this result before. She placed her hand on his forehead again.  
  
"Well, there is no fever anymore. You will recover soon." She brushed his hair back from his eyes. "Hmmm."  
  
Syan jumped up and carried what was left of the water over to him.  
  
"Lean your head back."  
  
She walked behind him, draping his hair over the back of the seat. She undid the green tie in his ponytail, and carefully poured water over his head. Rubbing soap in her hands, she worked it into a lather, and drew it through his hair. He winced slightly when she touched his brow, so she very gently massaged his scalp and rubbed the soap through his hair. She enjoyed the feel of the thick strands gliding through her fingers.  
  
She began to smile as she watched him relax and close his eye. He was a bit of a lone wolf, but she couldn't help but notice he enjoyed the little acts of tender care she imparted on him. He let his head fall back, his features unstrained and calm as the refreshing coolness of the water poured over him, rinsing all the salt and sweat away. She gently squeezed the water out, wrapped his hair in a dry cloth and then carefully she combed the length of it. It was quite long, silky black, with only wisps of white betraying his age. She retied it in place. All the while she said nothing, just the gentle rhythm of her breathing broke the silence.  
  
He was totally relaxed, his muscles at ease and his hands open and resting on his lap, She considered, he probably didn't have many moments like this as a warrior.  
  
"Thank you," he said  
  
Auron watched as a wry smile played across her lips,  
  
"Thank me later. Look what I have next." With that she whipped out a sharp razor and held it out in front of her. "I had a tough time finding this thing." He held up his hand to stop her, his eye shifting nervously.  
  
"Have you ever shaved a man before,"  
  
.  
  
"No, but there's always a first time."  
  
"Not on me." He took the razor from her. "I'm not letting some fool woman slice up my face."  
  
Syan stood with her hands firmly on her hips  
  
"Oh, don't be such a baby!" she folded her arms and waited. He scowled at her, obviously not accustomed to being compared to a child.  
  
He soaped his face; his hands shaking weakly from all the exertion he had already gone through. With the first stroke he managed to nick himself. Dabbing the blood with the towel he glanced sideways at Syan who was standing and watching him. He gritted his teeth and then, resigning himself, he handed her the razor.  
  
She immediately dropped to her knees in front of him; the expression on her face became focused and serious. He watched uneasily as she moved within a few inches of his face. She said nothing, her mind solely on the task at hand. She applied more soap, and placed her fingers under his chin. Barely speaking above a whisper, she uttered the words, "Trust me," and raised his chin. Strangely it sent a shiver through him and he allowed his head to go back, exposing his throat.  
  
'Shick.', the razor glided briefly over his skin. She rinsed the soap off the blade, ready for the next stroke. 'Shick.', again it glided smoothly across his neck. She let her fingers trail softly behind the razor, gently exploring the surface of his face, to feel if the shave was close enough. As the razor continued to glide, her fingers followed, and the rhythm of it continued like a slow dance between the two of them.  
  
When his neck was done, he swallowed and lowered his head. She moved in closer, almost at eye level. He could see the curve of her long, dark lashes as she shaved one cheek, then the other, his head tilting automatically in response to the gentle pressure of her fingers on his face. He closed his eyes, momentarily enjoying the surprising pleasure of her touch.  
  
The scrape of the razor echoed in his ear, followed by the swish of the water as she cleaned the blade, the flow only interrupted occasionally by the exhale of her breathing. His anticipation grew as he awaited the next delicate caress of her fingers. As if her hands were his own, he contorted the skin across his chin to make it easier to shave. Her hands were quick and confident as she brought the sharp edge of the blade across the contours around his mouth. Her fingers trailed over his chin, lightly touching his lower lip and sending an electric pulse through him, causing him to catch his breath.  
  
He watched her eyes as they danced over the surface of his face; she was lost in the ritual, not even aware of the effect it had on him. He could just catch her fragrance as she moved closer, a gentle breeze blowing wisps of her hair across his cheek. She would stop every so often to tuck it back behind her ear. Her mouth was only inches away.  
  
"Stretch your upper lip," she hardly made a sound. She was so close he could feel the pressure of every word. She held her finger under his nose and drew the razor above his upper lip. He felt the warmth of her breath over his mouth as she concentrated on the final strokes, her fingers gliding after the razor and brushing his lip with a soft touch. He closed his eye, and, letting his lips part, he exhaled. She was done.  
  
He hesitated to open his eye and look at her, waiting in silence until he had control of his thoughts again. The heavy blow of a towel thrown across his face brought him abruptly back to reality. He pulled the towel off in time to see her walking away with her fishing pole in hand. He smiled in spite of himself, shook his head and inhaled a deep breath. That was probably the most thrilling shave he had ever had. 


	3. 2

Chapter 2 When Syan returned he was still sitting where she had left him, fast asleep. She took the opportunity to clear out the shelter, removing everything and replacing it with fresh. She sprinkled a special powder over the floor, something that some travelers on previous excursions had told her was a must if you intended to live outdoors. She liked to scatter wild flowers and herbs, if she could get them, into the under part of the bedding. Now she had a tarp, so she draped that on top.  
  
She went outside and shook out the blanket and got rid of all the old brush, hiding it from prying eyes. When the bed was finished, she tapped Auron lightly on the shoulder. She felt the muscles in his arms tense as he awakened, but he calmly peered through his eye at her.  
  
"Come lie down here. It's warmer." He followed without complaint and stretched out, the softness of the bed giving to the contours of his body. He inhaled and she knew he caught the fresh fragrance of the added flowers. Then he settled in, his face peaceful, as he made himself comfortable and fell off to sleep.  
  
Later in the evening she nudged him awake so he could eat. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he ate everything without saying a word. He barely seemed to take any notice of her, but she noticed him, and now that he was cleaned up and shaven she noticed just how handsome he really was, in spite of his wounds. His eye looked up at her and she turned hastily and began clearing things away. She knew his gaze followed her and she could feel the heat rising in her face.  
  
"Do you know where the rest of my things are?" He broke the silence with the deep resonance of his voice. She nodded, hoping she had salvaged all he needed. She crawled into a dark corner of the shelter and pulled out a small bundle, handing it to him. It was his leather vest, cleaned and treated, a little beat up maybe, but still wearable. She then handed him his boots, clean and dry and also ready for wear, and a couple of wide belts, which he placed with the other items. He smiled and seemed pleased to see so many familiar things. She then handed him a large collar that clipped to his vest.  
  
She pointed at it, her brow furrowed. "What is this for?"  
  
"It protects my neck during battle. A bit awkward, maybe, but I've gotten used to it over the years. It also keeps the blade of my sword away from my skin." Suddenly his face registered shock. He sat up abruptly, obviously agitated, and turned his head in both directions. Syan watched as he fumbled around trying to locate something.  
  
"Where is it, Syan? Where's my sword?" She held out her hand, palm facing him.  
  
"Just hold it a sec." She reached over and flipped back her cloak, revealing as a long slender object wrapped in a silk cloth and pushing it over to him. He untied the silk, and, as it fell away, he breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing the familiar scroll workings on the hilt. He carefully uncovered the blade. She had wiped it clean and oiled it with clove oil. Both his eyebrows went up.  
  
"I'm impressed. You obviously know how to care for a sword, and you probably saved it from ruin. I'm indebted to you." He looked at her intently, as if he were remembering something. "You know, I think I dreamt that you traded another sword for mine." Syan did not answer, she just turned away.  
  
"It was a dream, wasn't it?" She swept her hand in front of her face like she was brushing away a fly.  
  
"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. A warrior cannot function without his sword."  
  
Auron was speechless, his face registering his confusion. He reached for her arm and she turned her gaze directly on him. She was a bit unnerved by the way he looked at her, and she backed away slightly trying to put some distance between his gaze and her growing embarrassment.  
  
"Why would you do such a thing, Syan? You don't even know me. Did your sword mean nothing to you?"  
  
"Yes, it meant something. It was given to me by a good friend, and it happened to be her family heirloom. Just let it go, Auron. It couldn't be helped." She cast her eyes to the ground. "I had to settle a dispute as quickly as possible. I don't need attention drawn to me. Your need was greater than mine, that's all."  
  
She crawled over to the opening of the shelter and began setting the brush in place in the doorway.  
  
"The sword is not really my weapon of choice, anyway. I'm not much of a fighter. She hesitated, thinking a second. I might be better with the bow and arrow. I am fairly skilled at making things; perhaps I might be able to make one."  
  
"Arrows maybe, but a good bow takes a lot of skill, Syan. If you plan to travel around Spira you'd better learn to fight. How have you managed up till now?"  
  
"There has never been a shortage of strong men willing to do it for me." She glanced over her shoulder to catch his reaction.  
  
Auron just scowled. Syan was taken aback. Somehow that scowl bothered her, and she felt a tinge of remorse.  
  
"Well, I'm too tired to worry about it now." She yawned, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, and curled up in the far corner of the room, trying to get comfortable. He turned his back to her.  
  
"What's the matter, Syan, don't you trust me anymore?"  
  
"Damn right!" She had noticed far too much of him already and she decided it was best to keep her distance. She closed her eyes and went off to sleep. He was the first to wake the next morning. Syan was curled in fetal position in the corner, looking cold and uncomfortable. He smiled to himself, remembering her response to him the night before. He wondered briefly what it might be like, feeling the warmth of her body next to him. He forced the thought away. Maybe she was right not to trust him, but deep down he felt a pang of regret, realizing her trust was somehow important to him.  
  
He threw the blanket over her and began to dress. He started by tucking his pants into his high boots, then slipping into his leather vest. It had been made specifically for him and it molded to his chest perfectly. He always wore a bracer on his left arm to keep his gauntlet from abrading his skin. He put on his red coat and buckled the left arm tightly in place, but the right side was always left free, only slipped over his shoulder, to be released in battle. He secured the coat in place with a series of wide belts that covered his entire abdomen. He decided to leave the collar off for now, since the island was relatively quiet and he was hardly using his sword at all.  
  
Somehow he felt comfortable enough with her that he didn't have to cover his disfigurement. His hand instinctively reached up to the scar that ran across his right eye, his finger touching it gingerly. He glanced at Syan, sleeping in the corner, then he let his hand fall dejectedly away from his face. Syan was such a contrast, he thought, with her young, vibrant beauty and him battle-scarred and worn. He reached for his gauntlet and secured it in place. Moving to the doorway, to go off in search of breakfast, he removed the branches covering the entrance. At the sound, Syan began to stir awake.  
  
She watched as he walked away, noting how much stronger he was. She was curious why he carried his left arm cradled in his coat as if it were injured, somehow, and needing a sling. She was well aware nothing was wrong with those arms. They were both healthy and strong and he had the muscles to prove it. It must be some warrior ritual of his. Drawing the warm blanket tightly around her, she snuggled in.  
  
It wouldn't be long before he'd be leaving her. She snapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "tch," surprised at herself. "You cannot afford any attachments, Syan." She spoke the words aloud to chastise herself. Drawing in a breath of air, she held the blanket to her nose, her eyes closing slightly, noting his warm scent still lingering there. Then she exhaled heavily, flung the blanket off and proceeded to get ready for the day. He returned a short time later with some wild fruit and berries, which Syan gratefully accepted. He couldn't help staring at her. She had just finished washing, her hair was combed back, and it danced with fire in the sunlight. Her skin and cheeks were blushed pink from scrubbing. She looked fresh and vibrant, like a new fawn. He sat in the same place as before and she sat next to him. They ate breakfast together, enjoying the morning air. Normally a solitary man, he surprised himself by talking about his travels through Spira with Braska and Jecht . She listened with rapt attention, laughing at some of Jecht's outrageous antics. He found himself unmistakably embellishing on the tale, just to hear her. At one point her hand rested on his arm, as she dropped her head into his shoulder and pealed with laughter. Her eyes sparkled and danced, and he wanted to hold her there, close to him, a bright ray of exuberant life. He enjoyed the sound of her mirth, and for the first time it wasn't quite so painful to relate his story and remember the journey.  
  
Time seemed to fly by until, finally, Syan got up and stretched. She was dressed in her usual sleeveless top, tied around the neck, and a split skirt, open up both sides for ease of movement. They were covered with a multi-colored pattern typical in Spira, but the colours were beginning to fade from wear. As she drew her arms up over her head he watched her muscles stretch and flex. He hadn't really noticed before how long and sleek her legs were, as they slipped out from the sides of her skirt. His gaze travelled up over the round curve of her hips, past the narrow slope of her waist, so slim he imagined it was not much bigger than the span of both his hands. He lowered his eyelid and tried not to stare at the ample curve of her breasts, but the chill of the morning air made that a fairly difficult task. He let his gaze stop at her shoulders, his eye following the slope of them up to her slender, elegant neck and hovered over the hollow of her throat. He could not look at her face, afraid she might be able to see how much she unsettled him, especially with those eyes. A person could get lost in those eyes. Her hair fell away from her shoulders and ran down her back like a free-flowing river. His nostrils flared, remembering the scent of it.  
  
"I have work to do," she said, breaking his reverie.  
  
He nodded his head, cleared his throat, and then spoke. "I'm going to the village to see what I can learn there." Unable to look away, he was still watching her as she walked towards the path, her hips swaying in a slow graceful movement. She seemed to glide along like an agile cat. He pursed his lips.  
  
"Whew! She's really something," he muttered under his breath. It had been a long time since he had noticed a woman the way he had just noticed her, and he tried to shake it off. It was probably not wise to be with her too long; his plans were set. He could almost hear the sound of Jecht laughing at him in the back of his mind, but he forced it away and set off for the village.  
  
Auron returned to the camp before Syan did and he wondered where she might be. The sun would be setting soon and she had been gone quite a while. He tried not to worry, but it was his nature to be concerned. He had spent a good portion of his life protecting others, and he found that he was pacing to pass the time. Eventually, he heard familiar footsteps coming through the brush. Syan was carrying one of her buckets and she had her skirt rolled up to hold something. She stopped in front of him, dropped the bucket down and shook out the folds of her skirt, dumping some freshly dug tubers on the ground. She waited expectantly. He looked into the bucket, into the multiple eyes of two large crustaceans. Then something else caught his eye, drawing it to Syan's neck - a string of beads - and he burst out laughing.  
  
"What's so amusing?" she said, clearly annoyed. He knew she must have expected praise for her efforts but the fact she wore those particular beads around her neck struck him funny.  
  
"That!" He pointed at the necklace of blue and green she was wearing. He walked over and slipped it unceremoniously from her neck.  
  
"Hey! I found that and I happen to like it." She jumped up at his arm and tried to take it back. "Do you mind? Don't tell me you want it for yourself? "He held it out of her reach and then, pushing her away, proceeded to clip it just above his belt. It was obvious now that it was part of his attire. Syan tensed.  
  
"Humph! I think it looks better on me, frankly."  
  
"Granted, but it has significance to this uniform. Sorry."  
  
"Ok, fine! Talk about overbearing!" and she turned her attention elsewhere.  
  
"Do you know what those are?" pointing to the bucket.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Do you have any idea how to prepare them?"  
  
"Yes, I think so."  
  
"Good. We have one pot, just over there. Go to it," and she pointed to the fire pit. She grabbed her cloak. "I'll be back. I have something else to do," and she headed toward the village.  
  
"Wait a minute. Do you expect me to cook dinner?" He had gotten used to her doing the meals and he was annoyed that she would even consider asking him to do such a job.  
  
"Oh, stop complaining. It won't kill you." She stopped, then, turning around, she ran back to him. "I forgot something." She moved in closer, her hand reaching out to him. He stood frozen, waiting to see what she would do. She thrust her hand into the front of his coat along the arm resting in the fold, her hand gliding smoothly over the contour of his muscles and searching the inner pockets, withdrawing a handful of gil. "I need this," she said, smiling up at him. He stood speechless as she trotted away, then released, through his nostrils, the breath he had been holding.  
  
"What the!.. Brazen little.,"he mumbled. He wasn't sure if he was just irked at her behavior, or disappointed that all she wanted was his gil.  
  
He lit the fire in the pit and set the pot of water on. Then he looked into the bucket. The crustaceans stared blankly back, and one shot out a thin stream of water in the direction of his face.  
  
"Sure, you say that now," he said, the deep timber of his voice echoing in the quiet, "but just give me a minute. It won't be my ass in the fire." He grabbed some sticks, forced the tubers onto the ends and placed them around the pit. This was going to take a while. 


	4. 3

Chapter 3 The sun was going down quickly. Syan crept into the village, moving around unseen. Someone had been baking bread and had left a number of loaves out to cool. She passed by and a loaf disappeared, a few gil mysteriously left in its place. There was only one place in the whole village that had any livestock and Syan broke silently into their storage shed and took a small amount of cheese and butter, leaving enough gil behind to cover the loss. She had hoped to do business with one of the travelling merchants that frequented all the villages in Spira, but, unfortunately, none were around tonight.  
  
She began to head home, when she passed the one place that was remotely like an inn. A swarthy, unpleasant man owned it, and the locals went there to purchase their beverages. Syan peered through the window. A small flagon of beer sat on the end of the counter. She shifted uneasily, her logic telling her to leave. The place looked busy this evening. After all, it was the only meeting place on the island. She managed to blend into the crowd, and quickly and quietly the beer disappeared. She had no idea what it was worth so she only guessed the amount of gil to leave. Then, with her arms full, she headed back.  
  
Auron watched as the pot reached a full, rolling boil. He dumped the crustaceans out of the bucket and grabbing them by the back legs he dropped them into the water. As the air began to escape from their shells it produced a high pitched sound that was disturbingly like screams. Even he felt uncomfortable listening to the snapping, popping, and screaming sounds coming from them. Before long they fell silent and began to turn a blush pink in color. Hearing someone approaching he stood up. It was Syan with her arms full of items.  
  
She looked into the pot and smiled at him.  
  
"Well done. I'm glad you did it. I have to admit I can't cook them myself - I can't stand the noise." His expression was slightly smug.  
  
She used some slate rock gathered from the beach for plates. Cutting some slices of bread with her knife, she set out the meal and then presented the precious butter for use. They used stones to break the harder shells of the crustaceans and extracted the tender white meat with their fingers. It melted in their mouths. Along with the tubers, it was the best meal they had eaten in a long time.  
  
"Oh, here, I nearly forgot," she said, handing Auron the flagon of beer. He took it eagerly, and, from the look on his face after taking a draught, she knew he truly enjoyed it. That pleased her and eased the uncomfortable feeling she had at taking it. He offered her a drink but she refused, stating that fresh water was all she needed. When they had finished their meal she began to clear away the mess.  
  
"Now, tell me, was that not the best meal you've ever tasted?" she said, grinning from ear to ear. He just nodded his head and leaned back, finishing his last gulp of beer.  
  
"Good. Hold that thought, because tomorrow we are back to eating fish again." He grimaced at her.  
  
"I have to admit I'm getting a little tired of fish."  
  
"Well, pardon me, Your Highness," she said sarcastically, but a small smile was playing across her lips. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smile. He stood up and stretched.  
  
"I have to go to the village tomorrow. The local priest will be back, and I must speak to him." He then headed to the shelter to sleep. Syan finished clearing the area and then she crawled in and pulled the brush in front of the door. Crawling over to the edge of the tarp she lay down. It was uncomfortably cold that night and she decided it would be safe to trust him again. Auron shifted slightly. She could feel the warmth of him near her and she resisted the urge to move closer. She heard him lift the blanket and felt him throw the edge over her, his warmth seeping through and beginning to envelop her, and her body soaked it up like a sponge. His breathing began to slow and she waited, frozen in place, her eyes closed shut, feigning sleep. Eventually the gentle rhythm of his breathing made her relax and lulled her, reluctantly, into dreams. In the village, stories were circulating about a thief who would visit on occasion. Some claimed to have seen a beautiful woman and, as the story was told and retold, the description of her beauty was exaggerated until they began to refer to her an angel. Late that same evening, two men, seated in the inn, were discussing her.  
  
"It would seem we were visited by the angel this evening," one man said to the other.  
  
"Consider it a blessing," the second man said. "She is supposed to bring good luck."  
  
"My wife had just set some bread out to cool when one loaf disappeared, and there was some money left in its place." "  
  
Otho, where is my beer?" he yelled at the owner. Otho was a rough, swarthy looking man, with a protruding belly.  
  
"It's right where I left it at the end of the counter, you fool." They all turned to look, but there was nothing there. Otho walked over to the end of the counter and then returned, holding a couple of coins.  
  
"I'll be damned," the second man said. "Did anyone see who took it?" They all gestured and shrugged, but no one had seen anything.  
  
"Wow, Otho!" the first man exclaimed. "It appears you were visited by the angel, too. May you have good fortune!"  
  
"Good fortune, my ass," Otho growled. "She is nothing but a no-good thief, and a cheat too." He extended his hand, showing the two coins. "This isn't enough to cover it."  
  
"Don't speak unkindly of her. A lot of folk think she has brought luck to this island. As you can see, we've not been plagued by fiends."  
  
Otho just gave the man a dirty look. "Even the fiends don't care for this shit-hole of a place. But they'll come soon enough, mark my words. Has anyone actually seen this so-called angel?"  
  
"Lots have claimed to have seen her," the second man spoke up.  
  
"They say she is so beautiful that to gaze upon her enchants you in a spell  
  
"Really?" the first man said. "I heard that she could stop a man's heart and leave him dreaming of phantoms in the night.  
  
Otho just listened, his hand brushing through his coarse beard.  
  
"Ah, you two are a couple of idiots! This woman is no angel. She is flesh and blood like the rest of us. What would an angel want with bread and beer? I wonder where she is hiding, and why? I bet she has something to do with the appearance of those Guado soldiers that showed up here a few days ago."  
  
"Yeah, but the Guado left, didn't they, and they didn't find anything," the second man pointed out in her defense.  
  
"I didn't say she wasn't smart," Otho said, becoming more and more interested.  
  
The first man was beginning to read Otho's thoughts.  
  
"Whoever she is, she hasn't done anyone any harm. Just leave it alone, Otho. Don't start trouble."  
  
"Who said anything about trouble? I'm just curious, is all. Here, drink your beer," and he banged a flagon down in front of the man. Otho began to think, where would someone be able to hide for extended periods on this island? It would have to be a place that is sheltered and yet could provide easy access to food and fresh water. He knew the island pretty well, and there were only a couple of places that came to mind.  
  
A few hours later, Syan fell into a disturbing dream. She struggled to wake, but could not summon the strength. She was standing in the great hall in the House of the Covenant, where everything felt so familiar.  
  
"You stupid, little wretch!" a shrill voice cut through the silence. With a sickening feeling she began to remember the day, and her heart started to race. There was someone behind her, she could feel it, yet she was unable to turn around, her mind overcome with fear. Her body began to shake and her eyes darted around looking for a place to hide, but there was nowhere. Feeling the vibration of thunder, she turned quickly, in defense. The person was yelling at her, the face distorted and ugly, suffused with color. Syan could not hear anything at first, but words eventually began to filter into her memory.  
  
"How dare you refuse the proposal, Syan? You will change your mind this very minute, or I swear I will kill you."  
  
Syan's voice sounded so desperate and small. She was not the woman she knew herself to be now, but a mere slip of a girl of fifteen.  
  
"Please! Why are you doing this? I'm too young for marriage. I don't love that man; I hardly even know him." She wrung her fingers together. "Please! I promise I will work harder, just don't get so angry."  
  
"Do you accept his offer?" the voice screamed, ignoring her pleas."  
  
Syan gathered all her nerve together.  
  
"No, I won't. I still have the right to refuse."  
  
"You forget I own you. You have no rights here." Suddenly Syan felt something slam into her chest, throwing her back off her feet. She heard the thunder rolling over her head and began to detect the horrible smell of burning flesh. Pain shot through her body, unbearable, agonizing pain. She was lifted right off the floor and hung suspended in the air. Her skin felt as if it were peeling slowly away from her body, but when she looked down, expecting to be engulfed in flames, there was not a mark on her. It soon became clear that black magic was being used to hurt her. An intense pressure ripped through her chest, clutching her heart and squeezing with all its might. Her life was being drawn from her and she was getting weaker and weaker. It was becoming difficult to breathe, and she began choking, clutching at her throat, trying to tear away the invisible foe. But the struggle was futile, her consciousness was slipping away. The inevitability of death was seeping into her mind She cried out in anguish, her words muffled and unrecognizable in her own ears.  
  
Silence, then a huge explosion, suddenly shook the room and the hold on her was released, causing her to plummet like a stone to the floor. Finally, able to take a breath, she filled her lungs. An agonizing scream ripped from her throat and pierced the air. Auron bolted upright. Syan's scream had shaken him to the very core. He could hear her crawling on her hands and knees, flailing around in the dark, caught in full panic. Her breathing was coming out in gasps, and she was disoriented and confused. Kneeling in the inky blackness, he reached over and grabbed her into his arms. She let out a wail and clawed at him, trying to twist away. He held her tightly, afraid she might injure herself in all the confusion. He felt the heat of her body and the sweat generated by her alarm. Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest; he could feel the vibration of it against his arms, yet she still fought him, managing to push back from his grip. He was amazed how strong she was. He spoke calmly.  
  
"Syan, it's me, Auron. You're safe."  
  
She was still trying to pull his arms away, but he noticed the sound of his voice had an immediate effect on her. He felt her muscles release slightly and she stopped fighting and became still. She moved closer to him in the dark, her hot breath sweeping across his face as she panted with fear. She stopped and inhaled in short quick breaths, and immediately began to relax further. He realized she was instinctively trying to place his scent, and the fact that she recognize it and was comforted by it made his throat go abruptly dry. She released a long sigh and he drew her closer. He was fighting to stop his own heart from accelerating to the same tempo as hers. He found her face and held it in his hands, unsure at first how to settle his own mind. From the closeness of her breath he knew her lips were just inches away. She was so vulnerable and he hated the fact that all he could think about was what her kiss would taste like.  
  
She spoke. "Auron?" He drew back, startled, realizing she had only just become aware of her surroundings.  
  
"Yes, it's me. You had a bad dream. Be calm, nothing is going to hurt you."  
  
Her muscles went limp. She slipped from his hands into his arms and buried her face in his chest, her breathing still coming in gasps. He closed his eye for a second, concentrating on control, her breath now beating heavily against his chest. She suddenly stiffened. He knew his heart was pounding too fast, and he was afraid she could hear it. She pushed away from him, clutching the lapels of his coat.  
  
"I'm sorry." Her fist braced across his chest, his coat wrapped tightly in her fingers. "I'm sorry, I just need a minute." Her body still shook violently. He reached out to her, wanting to keep her in his arms, but thought better of it. Pulling his collar from the clutches of her fists, instead, he helped her lie back down. Wrapping her in the blanket, he sat next to her, not saying a word at first.  
  
"Go back to sleep; I'll watch over you." He swept her hair off her face, and pushed it behind her. "Tonight you will be safe. I'll guard you." He spoke with surprising gentleness.  
  
"I had a horrible nightmare. I haven't had that dream in years." Her voice betrayed the intense fear she felt.  
  
"We all have demons to contend with. Try and rest now." A small glint of moonlight filtered through the doorway and he could just see Syan's eyes. They seemed as big as saucers. Abruptly she turned her back to him, her shoulders trembling. He could hear the fluctuation of her breathing, and knew she was crying quietly. He reached for her, hesitantly at first, then placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Her head turned slightly at his touch. She sniffled and hesitated, then, reaching up and placing her hand on his, she lifted his arm and drew it around her. He lay down beside her, and patiently waited, then, pulling her trembling body closer to his own, he lay still. Gradually her muscles relaxed and her breathing went quiet, and when he was sure she was sleeping, he put his own head down and, eventually, drifted off.  
  
No sooner had he allowed himself to relax then he was pulled into his own familiar visions. He was conversing with Jecht, and they were walking together in a strange city. Jecht had been Braska's guardian and also Auron's friend. He had a strong muscular body and rugged features. His mustache trailed down both cheeks into a goatee. and his long, dark hair was wrapped in a red bandana. He wore shorts and a drape of cloth hung off his right hip, and his left arm was completely covered by armour. Standing in a familiar pose, scratching the back of his neck, he laughed at Auron.  
  
"You finally had a beautiful woman in your arms and the best you could do was be a guardian. By Yevon, you're hopeless, Auron." He placed his hands on his hips in a self-satisfied manner and laughed again. "I can think of far better ways of comforting a woman, but then I'm man enough to recognize a good thing when I see it."  
  
Auron scowled deeply at the taunts being thrown at him. Jecht always did have a way of annoying him.  
  
"Yeah, I met the good woman you speak of, and I was able to see just how happy you made her," he shot back caustically. Jecht's countenance clouded, and he contracted the muscle in his jaw. He said nothing more as his image faded. Auron awoke.  
  
FOR MORE GOTO: www.angelfire.com/ar3/syan 


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